


To Lead the Whole World Astray

by pentipus



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Catholic Guilt, Catholic Steve Rogers, Father Barnes, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Religion, Religion Kink, a bit - Freeform, kinda established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2507033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentipus/pseuds/pentipus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looked to the ground, focussing on the faded pile of the red carpet under his feet before carefully sinking to his knees.</p><p>He felt the sudden silence in the room as though it were a throbbing heart, his own buzzing tinnitus hush hush hushing as he stared at the glinting toes of Barnes’ black shoes. When he swallowed the sound was like the cocking of a gun. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Lead the Whole World Astray

The roof of the church arched high above him like the brown insides of a ribcage, the white marble pillars encircling like hard arms. At the far end, the tall figure of Christ, a lovingly taught depiction of sinew and muscle, his beautiful wooden face, eyes cast down, his lips parted. And at his curled fists, iron pegs, driven through his wooden palms into the white crucifix behind. Steve stared up at him, his own hands clasped in his lap, the starched black collar of his shirt rubbing against the underside of his jaw where he had nicked his white skin earlier that morning while shaving. A drop of pink-red blood in the basin. As Steve’s eyes moved across the soft edges of the carving he recalled the feel of the smoothed wood against his lips. Two days ago he had stepped up to the altar, the church almost pitch black around him, and spoken his words of prayer at Christ’s feet before kissing them, his breath seeming too loud in the darkness.

Soft footsteps echoed from the back of the church, slowly drawing closer to his pew. He let his eyes drop down, staring at his own hands, pinning his palm with his forefinger and thumb, trying to imagine what it might feel like to have a metal bolt driven through his pink flesh.

“Mister Rogers,” a voice said quietly, sibilance whispering through the dusty air. Steve kept his head down but let his eyes slip up, finding Father Barnes’ face above him. “A word?” Steve nodded, pushing himself away from the hard pew.

Father Barnes led him to the small vestry off to the side of the church, the heavy wooden door groaning as he pushed at it with that curious hand of his. The flesh plated and pinned and always angry red, like a picture of a vehicle accident. Metal twisted and pushed into flesh, blood spotting the floor.

“Close the door,” he said, stepping up to the broad pedestal desk that dominated the little wood-panelled room, his chin high as he turned to watch Steve push the door closed. “I’ve been informed that you haven’t been seen in confessional for over a week. You must be in the Lord’s good books if that’s the case?”

Steve nodded, stepping forward. “I’m sorry, Father,” he felt his jaw tense as he scanned Barnes’ face, the sweep of his dark hair, the press of his white collar against his throat. “I should’ve gone sooner, I know.” He looked to the ground, focussing on the faded pile of the red carpet under his feet before carefully sinking to his knees.

He felt the sudden silence in the room as though it were a throbbing heart, his own buzzing tinnitus hush hush hushing as he stared at the glinting toes of Barnes’ black shoes. When he swallowed the sound was like the cocking of a gun. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

He could hear Barnes breathing in the stillness that followed, a controlled rush of air through his nose. Steve glanced up and saw that Barnes’ jaw was set, his mouth a hard line. He dropped his gaze to Barnes’ hands, one lose at his side, the other slowly curling around the leather of his belt at his hip. “It has been nine days since my last confession.”

“Keeping count, Rogers?”

Steve placed his hands on his bent knees, his fingers splayed against the rough material. “I have had impure thoughts.” Steve felt the hot buzzing of a flush over his skin as he spoke. Felt his cock twitch between his legs when he heard the familiar quiet sound of a zipper, dragged open tooth by aching tooth. “I need guidance, Father.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Barnes’ thick voice above him, “Go on.”

Steve’s tongue touched his lip, then pressed against the back of his teeth. “I have thoughts about another man. At night. I have- There are unnatural needs in me, Father. I imagine another body in the bed with me.” Steve’s heart thrummed at his wrists, blood pooling between his legs and buzzing under his skin. He looked up at Father Barnes but dropped his eyes immediately, a puff of air escaping noisily from between his lips at the sight of Barnes with a slow hand slipped between the tongues of fabric of his open fly, angular metal plates glinting in the light as his knuckles shifted back and forth. Steve’s cock pressed up against his slacks, obvious under the tight stretch of the material across his thighs. He tried to imagine what he looked like, hard and flushed, knees against the red carpet as he continued, “I think about him touching me, pushing me back against the bed. I think about what he has, and how he can give it to me. I-” He swallowed, fingers curling and digging into the flesh of his thighs, eyes trained on Barnes’ shoes as he took a step closer. “I think about his cock.”

Steve let his eyes slip closed for a moment before looking up once again, at Father Barnes’ eyes dark and sparking above him, at his cock in his hand, hard and curved inches from Steve’s face.

Steve’s lips parted as he leant forward, nudging Barnes’ hand away with his nose, pushing his lips into the soft hair at the base of his cock, the metal edge of a zipper against his cheek. “I think about how he would push into my mouth, how it would feel on my tongue. How someone who’s hard might feel. How they would taste.” He dropped his voice to a whisper, listening to the ragged noises that Barnes was making above him as he drew his lips along the side of his cock, saying, “How my name might sound if it were said in prayer.”

Barnes spoke, his voice desperate and low, “You must repent, Rogers.” He took a breath and almost sighed, “You are drenched in sin.”

Steve looked up, catching Barnes’ eyes as he ran his wet tongue along the length of him, “Am I going to go to hell, Father?”

Barnes let out a breath through his open mouth and threaded his hand through Steve’s hair, skin and matted metal against the back of his head, pulling him forward, watching as his cock slipped slowly between Steve’s lips. “Yes,” he said heavily. “But we’ll go there together.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have an entire story that goes with this, but unsurprisingly the porn happened very easily. It's a total AU, hence the weird interpretation/version of Bucky's arm. Anyhoo. If y'all want some religion AU, please let me know and I will write it! Also, comments are love. Thank you for reading!


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